LoveHacks Book 1
by BeachGirlDGD
Summary: Dani has just moved back to San Francisco for a new job opportunity. She is happy to take on the challenge, but an assignment brings back memories of someone she's left in her past. When invited to a club with a new acquaintance she has a run in with her blast from the past.
1. Ch 1: This Story Will Change Your Life

Chapter 1: This Story Will Change Your Life

*~Dani~*

It's 9:15 a.m.

A sudden increase in anxiety rushes through my body. I can't be late to work; not on my first day. My order when in twenty minutes ago in an empty coffee house, yet still no signs of it. That's how San Francisco rolls, though. Laid back and relaxed After living in New York the past couple of years, the change of pace is a relief.

"Danithqa?"

What?! Is that even a name? I look around. There are two people sitting at a small table with their drinks. There's also a man at the Sweetener station with his drink. That could only mean one thing.

"Did you mean... _Dani_?" I ask her.

"Whatever, " she replies, "Iced Macchiato. Have a good one."

Before I can say anything, the employee disappears to the back room. I sigh and carry my drink to the counter to grab napkins. The man beside looks up and smiles. He's attractive; tall, green eyes, carefully disheveled red hair. I know what's coming - he's already made the first move with eye contact.

"They screw names up all the time in this place," he informs me, "I'm Evan, but here they call me Effin."

I let a small laugh escape me. Points for humor.

"Well Effin, despite what my cup says, I'm Dani."

Evan smiles at me and eyes the sugar packets in my hand.

"Don't think you need those, I bet you're sweet enough already," he teases.

Wow. It's the only thing I can initially think. I fasten the lid back on my coffee, take a deep breath, and respond in the least asshole- like way I can.

"So... you think I'm sweet?" I ask, "That's really cute, but you'll need to do better than that".

Evan's mouth falls open. Perhaps he's not used to disinterest. Perhaps girls around here are easily impressed these days. Either way, I don't care. In New York things like this came flying out of every character I passed on the street at night. They do not bother or impress me. I watch him as he clears his throat and composes himself.

"Are you some sort of dating guru? A master in the art of flirtation?" he inquires.

"Actually yes. I'm a new writer for ClickIt - Specifically for the love and dating section. The art of wooing is my specialty."

"I see," Evan says skeptically, " well then, give me an assessment."

I give him a critical glance. Then I smile and give him my evaluation.

"You're confident but not too cocky, you didn't come off as a creeper, " I reply, "Your body language is relaxed which makes you approachable, good eye contact, decent sense of humor...and if you doubted how you're doing... I'm still talking to you. That's the biggest sign you're doing just fine."

"Wow, you weren't kidding," Evan praises me, impressed.

I look down at my watch. Shit.

"I need to get to work, " I explain, "but how about you give me your number and maybe you can show me around sometime?"

I hold my phone out to him and he eagerly accepts it. He programs his number in and hands it to me. When I see it listed as Effin, I laugh. He turns a little red in the cheeks and looks at me with what I can only describe as intense curiosity.

"How are you even single?" he asks.

"Maybe I'm waiting for Mr. Right," I tease, "or maybe I just found him. See you around, Evan."

With a small nod in his direction I exit the cafe. I don't even need to look back to know that he's staring after me in utter surprise.

Fortunately I get to my office building on time. Unfortunately, between waiting for an elevator and weaving through a busy lobby, I'm five minutes late. The secretary waves me through when I show my credentials and I walk into my new workspace.

Whoa.

My first thought is Seventies acid trip. Lots of bright colors, mismatched seating arrangements, pop art on the walls. Somehow, it works. I pass cubicles in which writers inhabit chairs, yoga balls, or stand by choice. It's overpowering; in my distracted state I nearly run into someone. I stop abruptly and stare up at him.

"Hey! You must be my new writer, Dani!"

He extends his hand and shakes mine far to vigorously.

"I'm Martin, " he introduces himself, "your Editor-In-Chief. Now come with me, we're just about to have a morning meeting. You can meet some of the head staff."

I follow him to a strange room defined by a modern cut archway. Beyond it I see a plethora or writers sitting on various accommodations - the most interesting of which is stationary bike. There is also, I notice, an overwhelming male presence. I am the only female senior writer in the room. Martin claps his hands together and the voices go silent. They turn their attention to the front and I feel all eyes wander to me.

"Good Morning Gents! Oh uh, Lady and Gents, "he gestures to me, "I'd like to introduce Dani! She'll be taking over the fashion and romance section of ClickIt!'

Silence. No hellos, no waves, just one smile in a far-off corner. I'm so uncomfortable it's scary.

"Dani is a welcome addition to our staff, and is quite accomplished, "Martin continues, "Her personal blog post ' _Worst Date Ever_ ' got 2 million hits, 500,000 shares and plenty of retweets. I'm sure she already has an idea for her first article!

He put me on the spot, but luckily an idea had been rattling around my head for a few days now. I smile, look out at the sea of men, and pitch it.

"Actually yes. I was thinking ' _How to Ask Guys Out In Three Steps'"._

An arrogant looking blond man in the front row scoffs. He stands and I immediately know his deal. Too much hair product, short and clearly conscious of it, fleece best, cliché tribal arm band tattoo. Oh, boy.

"Why in the hell would a woman ask a man out?!" he smirks, "that's something only a weak beta male would allow."

I know I should be professional. I know I need this job. But sexism brings out the worst in me.

"What's your name?" I ask quietly.

"TJ, and I'll call you babe," he announces.

"Well, TJ, " I retort, "Maybe I should write a fashion tutorial article to help you out. It looks like you bought your wardrobe from the same place ClickIt bought their furniture. Was Sesame Street having a sale?"

The only smiling face in the room lets out a laugh and quickly muffles it. TJ narrows his eyes and I prepare myself.

"See Martin, " He grumbles, "this is what happens when you hire a chick. Instead of working all she wants to do is redecorate."

"Oh, I'll redecorate, and I'll start with your unfortunate face."

This time the guy in the back laughs so hard he snorts. I give him an appreciative smile; TJ glares at him.

"Shut up Felix!" He shouts, "Your idea for writing is crap. Here's a better one - " _Five Ways to Please Your Man In Bed_ ' If you need hands on research I can be of service-"

"OKAY," Martin interjects, "as lovely as that sounds, an idea just came to me. Dani, your first assignment is this: ' _The 10 Guys You Date In Your Twenties'_. You will go out on 10 dates with ten iconic personalities. You will write about each experience. It's due in a month, and I expect a progress report every Monday morning."

I'm silently thankful Martin rolls over my dispute with TJ, but also annoyed. TJ must be a favorite. Still, Martin's thrown a solid idea my way, and I admit to myself that it piques my interest. I nod and smile at him.

"On one condition," I add sarcastically, "I don't have to ask TJ out for the iconic 'douchebag' date."

TJ makes a noise of protest, but Martin holds a hand up. Hey ends the meeting before TJ can insult me again. I smile at him as I make my way to my cubicle and feel relief when he doesn't follow me. My four small walls are bare; I sit at my desk and take it in. Then I take a few pictures from my purse and tack them to the wall on my right: One of the NYC skyline, One of the Bay from before I left, One of my family and...one with my best friend from University. I don't linger on them long, though, because someone is standing at my cubicle entrance. I turn around and recognize the friendly face.

"Felix, right?" I ask.

"Yes," he smiles, "hey…sorry about TJ back there. He was being an ass…more than usual."

"I get the feeling his _allowed_ to be," I mutter, " and don't apologize for him. I'll show him a thing or two when my articles go viral."

Our conversation comes to a halt when a woman approaches him in a frustrated flurry. She holds an empty container right up to Felix's face.

"FELIX! WHERE IS THE HORSERADISH?!" she shouts, " Did you use it all in that challenge vid?! I needed it for my recipe today!"

"W..well…y..yes," Felix stutters nervously, "I…I even got horseradish trending. Th… the Doctor said I should regain feeling in my tongue soon."

"Super!" she hisses before looking at me, "now my video will be late because I have to buy more!"

She looks at me, her eyes flashing dangerously.

"Whatever you do," she warns me, "DON'T agree to food challenges with this one."

Without another word she stalks away; I stare after her half amused, half scared. Felix just stares in pure admiration.

"Who is that?" I ask.

"Oh…," Felix sighs, "That's just Isabel".

"Oh, _Isabel_?" I tease in the sappiest voice I can muster.

"N- no, not like-"

"C'mon man, this is my area of expertise," I reason, "I get it. You like her."

"Oh, hah...she's...nice, but what about your assignment? Have any ideas for your first date? Know anyone in the area?"

At the mention of knowing people he distracts me from the teasing. I subconsciously turn to the picture on my bulletin board. To our two smiling faces and graduation gowns. There's someone alright, but it's been a long time.

"There's one guy," I muse, "Mark, a good friend from University."

"Gonna call him?"

That question brings me back to Earth. Will I call him? It's been a long time. And we left things on awkward terms.

"I... it's complicated, " I confess, "I'm not sure yet. I did meet someone this morning though."

"Boy, you don't waste any time!" Felix jokes.

A fleeting smile crosses my face before my thoughts turn back to Mark. Throughout my years in New York, memories of him and our friendship wove in and out of my thoughts. Since I made the decision to move home his presence in my head has been a more frequent occurrence. I sit back, staring blankly at my computer. His phone number is still in my phone, but I don't think I can bring myself to call. At this point, I doubt he even wants to hear from me. I doubt he even thinks of me these days.

*~Mark~*

"There's not enough coffee on this planet for me right now."

I look at the bottom of my empty Starbucks cup in sheer despair. Dammit. As we pass a nearby bin I chuck it. Though it's another great San Fran day I don't really notice. Exhaustion creeps ever closer. I'm a zombie at 9a.m and my day is just beginning. All I can do is keep pushing towards the Muni bus station. Beside me my roommate, Cole, looks up from his phone.

"You alright, Broski?" He asks, "You've been acting… off today."

I'm not in the mood for his stupid pet names on a good day, let alone a day like this one.

"Don't call me Broski," I shoot back in annoyance "I didn't get any sleep last night. Or the night before. Got a lot on my mind."

"Oooh… a lot meaning that college friend who's back in town?" Cole wiggles his eyebrows at me.

At the mention of her my mind travels miles away. Dani. My friend throughout the entirety of college. My partner in all things mischief, my stand-in therapist when there was girlfriend drama, and the kick-in-the-ass I needed when things seemed impossible. Dani. Back in San Francisco. She's been here a few days already. I expected to hear from her by now. Nothing but silence.

"Mark? Mark!"

Cole pulls me aside before I collide with a pole. I blink and swallow hard before nodding at Cole in appreciation.

"You zoned out on me there… thinking about the one that got away?" Cole teases.

"She's not the one that got away!" I throw my hands up in exasperation.

Cole rolls is eyes.

"Man that is such bullshit! You only talk about the girl all the time. And you get this lovey-dovey look in your eyes that makes me wanna hurl-"

"Shut up," I retort, " Dani and I made some good memories together, that's all".

That's the wrong thing to say around someone like Cole: Someone with a devious and dirty mind. His eyebrows arch and I know I'm in for it. The onslaught or perversity.

"What kind of good times? Huh?" he asks, " Sock on the doorknob kind? Boot – knocking, hair-pulling, back-scratching good times?"

"Not just on the knob, Cole. On the shower handle, car door, picnic table, classroom door, library study rooms…"

I can't help the sarcasm. When he starts with me it flows freely. Cole stops dead in his tracks.

"Wait – for real?!" he says incredulously.

"No, not for real you idiot!"

"I dunno…it could've been real back then, " Cole considers for a moment, "maybe in her absence you turned into a prude".

"SHUT UP COLE!"

We walk for a moment in silence. Cole suppresses a smile, happy that he sufficiently got under my skin. When he speaks again, he does so in his quiet and suggestive voice.

"You know… you should invite her to the Double Tap for drinks," he suggests, "She could meet the gang. I'm sure she'd be happy to make new friends here."

"I dunno," I hesitantly mull over the idea, "I've got that work thing tonight, remember?"

"Whatever, Mark," Cole answers as he checks his email, "I wouldn't write the idea off entirely. For all you know, she's thinking of you right now."

*~Dani~*

"Thanks for coming with me, Felix".

I survive my first day of work with no further TJ encounters and manage to convince Felix to join me in a shopping adventure. I set up a date with Evan for the evening and need to dress for the occasion. Moving back was a quick process that provided no time to apartment hunt. I'm crashing with a cousin whose apartment is basically a shoebox. I'm grateful for the hospitality, but I'm living out of a small suitcase. Most of my stuff is in storage. Just another reason to partake in one of my favorite pasttimes.

"Oh no worries, " he assures me, "anytime in the name of research. Where are you going tonight?"

"Uh…some new club…Mystique, I think?"

Felix stops dead in his tracks and looks up at me in shock.

"That club is supposed to be _legendary_! It's nearly impossible to get into! I heard they have an ice luge for vodka shots and a taco bar! There's celebrity sightings all the time! Drake was there last weekend!" he gushes.

"You know who Drake is?" I joke.

"I prefer Coldplay and The Killers, but I do know who he is," Felix answers indignantly, "I mean, he's not so bad…"

His words fade away, however, because at that moment I see it. THE DRESS. Black and sequined. Plunging neckline, cutouts that wrap across the midriff. Sexy. Confident. Yet, still classy. When Felix realizes I'm no longer beside him, he joins me. When he follows my line of sight he understands. We have a nonverbal agreement on this one. Together we hunt it down on a rack and I head straight to the dressing room to try it on. As soon as I look in the mirror I'm in love. Just one final test to pass. I need to show Felix.

"WOW," is all he's capable of.

Wow is a sufficient answer. I skip back to the room and change. One pricey (but so worth it) purchase later I hug Felix and head back to the apartment. All that's left for me is a hot shower and a super makeup job. Though I remind myself that this is article research, I can't help but feel excitement. I look forward to the date, and to seeing how my city has changed.

Eight- thirty rolls around before I know it. I wait outside for Evan, adjusting my dress and religiously looking up and down the street. That's when a sleek, white sports car pulls up to the curb in front of me. Evan gets out of the driver's side, sporting his flannel shirt and jeans from this morning. His casual dress confuses me. If we're going to such a trendy, popular place I'd expect a little effort. Nevertheless, I flash him a smile and nods towards the car.

"Nice ride,"

Evan doesn't answer. Instead he looks at me from head to toe several times.

"You look stunning. I feel like you're showing me up!" he exclaims.

"Not in that ride," I joke. I can see it puts him at ease.

Evan opens the door and helps me in. On our way to the club he points out some newer shops and restaurants that opened in my absence. He expresses happiness at my immediate contact. I notice he wipes his hands on his jeans several times. Nervous. I assure him I am very excited for the evening ahead, and this seems to ease his anxiety.

The club is first noticeable by the size of the crowd out front. He pulls the car up to Valet, and a young man helps me out. Evan tosses him the keys and warns him to be careful. Then he offers me his arm and steers her towards the entrance. I instantly notice a thick sea of plaid and flannel that makes me suspicious.

"That's an awful lot of flannel…know these guys?"

"Actually yeah. We all work together at Zamble. We may all look the same, but I'm pretty sure no one has a date as hot as mine," Evan answers.

I don't process the compliment. I'm stuck on the first part. They're coworkers. All in attendance at the same time.

"Wait… _Evan_ ," I narrow my eyes, "is this a work function?"

Evan looks down at the ground and stuffs a hand in his pocket.

"Yes," he acknowledges, "Zamble rented the place for the evening. I had to be here but I didn't want to turn you down… I figured I'd kill two birds with one stone, you know?"

My first instinct is to be annoyed, but when I see his expression it fades away. I put a hand on his shoulder and give him the smallest of reprimands.

"If you're gonna take a girl to something like this you should warn her. It's cool this time, but next time try being up front".

"Yes ma'am" he answers.

We make our way to the entrance, at which the crowd of plaid stops and stares. I try hard to ignore it, but it makes me extremely self councious. I grip Evan's arm a little tighter until we enter the club. The moment I see it I completely understand its reputation - marble floors, garish chandeliers, excellent music, strobe lighting, and plush seating. BeforeEvan and I can even find a place to sit, another bouncer ushers us to the VIP lounge.

"This never happens to me, "Evan says excitedly, "Must be your dress. You look sexy as hell."

I thank him for the compliment and then take in our new accommodations. The rest of the club didn't hold a candle to the VIP lounge. Leather chairs, glass-topped tables that doubled as fish thanks. An acrobrat hanging from silk ropes…and…

"No way!" I shout in surprise.

"What?" Evan asks.

"There _is_ a taco bar!"

"Yes there is, but we have tacos…we need drinks," Evan points out.

He flags down a nearby waitress and shortly after we are holding Tequila sunrises. We take the requisite time to talk. I am pleasantly surprised by the ease at which our conversation flows. It goes from work, to hobbies, to general tastes in entertainment. When our glasses are half empty and the music changes Evan perks up in his seat. He throws his hands in the air and turns to me.

"This is my jam!" he happily shouts, "Dance with me?"

I don't care for the song, but agree nonetheless. I love to dance and don't pass up many opportunities to do so. Evan takes my hand and leads me to the dance floor. I step closer to him and wrap my arms around his neck. He puts his hands on my hips as I sway them back and forth.

"Where'd you learn to move like this?" he murmurs in my ear.

"I picked up a trick or two in New York," I tease with a wink.

To prove my point spin in his arms and press my back to his chest. He holds me closer; wraps his arms around my waist as we move to the beat.

That's when I hear it.

A familiar voice, the voice permanently recorded in my brain, calls out to me over the music.

 _It can't be,_ I think to myself with a dismissive shake of my head.

Initially, I keep dancing. I'm hearing things; probably because I thought of it most of afternoon. Yet, confirmation of reality comes fast. Through the crowd walks a tall, handsome man I haven't seen in years. The man whose picture hangs in my new cubicle. The man I've avoided since I came back. My heart jumps from my chest to my throat and I freeze. I say his name in pure shock.

"Mark?!"

"Dani?!"


	2. Ch 2: Signs Your BFF Is Into You

*~Dani~*

Air.

What is air? At the moment it escapes me. I can't breathe. I can hardly move. All that I'm capable of is staring. The last time I saw Mark I was saying goodbye to him. Now he is here, in front of me, looking even better than I remember. I feel myself blink and I take as slow a breath as I can manage. Feeling creeps back into my body, the shock recedes, and I am simply happy. My best friend is standing in front of me! Boy, have I missed him!

"Mark, what are you doing here?!" I exclaim.

"It's good to see you, too, Dani."

There it is. That teasing tone; the one he used on me so often in school. Without wasting another moment, I hug him. Even in my heels I must stand on my tiptoes to press a kiss to his cheek. Where he used to be so smooth and baby-faced, there's a layer of stubble. It suits him. Brings to him a more rugged appeal.

"It's been a long time," I murmur softly.

"UH, Excuse me?"

A hand touches the small of my back. Evan. I completely forget I have been dancing with him; forget that he is still right behind me. Mark and I turn to face him and it's obvious he is noticeably pissed.

"Oh, sorry Evan!" I apologize to him," This is Mark, one of my good college friends!"

"We already know each other," Evan retorts.

Mark, in a chipper tone, simply greets him. "Good to see you again, Evan."

Then, as if Evan simply disappears, he turns back to me. He flashes her his trademark smile; the lopsided one that makes a small dimple appear in his cheek. He blushes as he takes me in. His eyes travel from my own, down the curves of my body, and then slowly back up.

"Wow, you look...wow," he fumbles through praise, "New York was good to you, huh?"

"More than good, but... I missed the Bay," I confess.

Mark's eyes narrow skeptically, " _just_ the bay?"

"Well no of course not. I also missed the weather," I tease.

Mark shakes his head in a knowing way. He should know to expect this from me after all these years. Still the same, sassy woman.

"So how do you two know each other?" I ask, looking between him and Evan.

"We worked on the same product team last year! Shared a cubicle, spent countless hours teamed up to finish the work," Mark explains.

Evan glares at Mark. He stands tall, almost appears to puff out his chest when he answers.

"Oh he was all about teamwork, " he spits out venomously, "until that superiority complex of his kicked in. Thought he was too good for us. Isn't that right, _teammate_?"

Mark shrugs. He answers Evan in a very nonchalantly. "Something like that. They made me manager of a new team because of my work ethic the quality of my programming."

" Yeah, sitting on your ass doing nothing all day is an _excellent_ work ethic, " Evan scoffs.

"Well, you know what they say, " I add, " _Those who can't do, manage_ ".

"Thanks Dani," Mark jokes, "you always did know how to encourage me."

I elbow Mark in the ribs and he retaliates with a poke to my stomach. He remembers what that does to me. I jump and yelp. Mark just laughs. Evan's scowl grows darker as he finishes his drink. Abruptly he steps between us and turns his back to Mark.

"Would you like another round, Dani?" he asks.

"That would be great, Evan, thanks!"

Casting a warning glance in Mark's direction, he stalks off towards the bar. We're alone, and I can see Mark is full to the brim with questions. I know exactly which one he will ask first.

"How'd you meet Evan?"

Yep.

"At the café before work this morning," I answer him.

Mark smirks at me.

"So," he begins, "You're back in San Francisco four days already and have not called me, but less than 24 hours after meeting Evan you're on a date with him. What's the deal, New York?"

Oh…so it all rests on my shoulders? He isn't placing this solely on me. I lean close and put a hand on his shoulder. Mark looks at me and I know I catch him off guard. I smile and pronounce each word carefully.

"You know, Collins, the phone works both ways. Correct?"

"I was hoping you wouldn't bring that up," he admits, "I guess I should have known better. And don't call me Collins. I still hate it when you do that."

Of course, he does. It is a habit I developed after knowing him a while. Whenever he annoyed me or made me angry I'd call him by my last name. He hated that; hated knowing I was upset. Irritating him, even in the smallest of ways, was satisfying. However, to retain its power I only used it when I was at my limit. Today's usage was a mild annoyance; brought up only for old time's sake.

"Nice to see you again, _Mark_."

"You too, Dani."

From across the floor, over the bass of the music, I hear Evan shout at me.

"DANI! OVER HERE, OVER HERE! LOOK! A BEER PONG TABLE OPENED UP!"

He stands next to a table and holds two drinks up in the air. I turn away from him and look at Mark. In the years we knew each other at University, we played our share of beer pong. As a team we were never successful, having won maybe once, but we always had fun. The bonus was him always carrying me back to my dorm when we played too many rounds.

"Well…what do you say?" I ask him.

Mark's lips curl into a smile. Damn, that smile.

"I'm in," he confirms.

With Mark by my side we approach the table. Evan looks excited as can be…until he sees Mark. His shoulders slump and the frown returns.

"Oh, super, "he glowers, "you brought Mark, too. _Wonderful_. I guess you're on his team?"

Mark looks at me and I look back at him. If it was not my choice before it is now – just to piss him off.

"Sure am!" I declare.

"Just like the good ole' days," Mark adds.

"Fine, but get ready to lose!" Evan vehemently warns us. He huffs and downs his entire drink.

"Evan…what do you think we _did_ in the good ole' days? We lost almost every tournament-"

"Blah Blah Blah," Evan interjects, "let's get started!"

The three of us work together to set up the cups. Before long, the game is in full swing. Evan takes it way too seriously. He is not talking, he is not looking at me; his focus remains on the cups. That is until I employ the use of my feminine wiles. He winds his arm back to throw the ball and I step into his line of sight. I lean over a little and push my cleavage together.

"Oh Evan…" I coo, "Make this shot and I'll kiss you".

"Huh?" he says in surprise.

"WHAT?!" Mark proclaims in a similar tone.

The ball sails over the cups and into my hand. I hold it up in triumph and wink at him.

"Awww…too bad," I tease, "guess you don't want that kiss after all."

The game progresses and we each put in a respectable performance. We're down to one cup each. The final showdown, and it's my turn. I pick up the ball; roll it between my hands as I focus. Then, staring down my target, I throw it and listen as it plops solidly into the cup.

"And _THAT_ ," I brag, "is how it's done boys."

Evan is positively furious. Being a sore loser is a big turn off. I take note of this for my article. We set to work fixing the table for the next group when the ping pong ball rolls off the edge and across the floor.

"I'll get it," he grumbles.

He disappears into a sea of people. While I watch him, I feel Mark watching me.

"Evan's … intense, don't you think?" he comments with a witty grin.

"Don't be an ass, Mark," I warn him.

He shrugs his shoulder and circles his finger above his head like a halo.

"What?" he exclaims innocently, "I'm just being obser- "

"GUYS! YOU WON'T BELIEVE WHAT JUST HAPPENED!"

Evan runs back through the crowd, shoving several people in the process. He doesn't wait for us to guess – just launches into excited rambling.

"The VP of Marketing wants to partner up with me for this pong tourney! It's starting right now. This is a huge networking opportunity. So…I'm sorry Dani, but our date ends here. I'll call you sometime, okay?"

"No worries, I'd rather hang out with Mark anyway," I reveal with a wave.

Evan doesn't even react; just waves back at me and runs. I am not upset. Not by a longshot. This date is at best average and I feel instant relief now that it's over. Mark comes up behind me. He touches my elbow gently.

"What an dick," he mutters and shakes his head, "want to get out of here?"

"Yes please."

Mark takes hold of my hand. When our palms touch a tingle skitters up my arm. I know he feels it, too, when he looks back at me. I let him lead the way out the front doors. Once we're free of the strobe lighting, loud music, and crowds, he lets me go. I'm not sure he really wants to: Nor am I sure I really want him to. We stand side by side around the corner of the building. Mark raises an eyebrow at me as I work on my phone.

"So…gonna call him again?"

I show him Evan's contact info as I press the delete button.

"That answer your question?" I ask.

We both smile. Mark looks down at his watch, and then back at me with purpose.

"It's still early," he observes, "I'm meeting some friends at a bar called The Double Tap. Come with me."

"I dunno…"

"C'mon Dani," he pleads, "I just want a chance to pick up where we left off."

I look up at him and his eyes catch me off guard. Oh God, those eyes. When we met, they were one of the first things I noticed about him because they were such a vibrant, deep cerulean color. When they sparkle they're pure magic; they're also a dangerous and effective tool to use on me. Dammit.

"So we're going to pick up like old times… in a bar full of people I don't know?" I joke.

Mark rolls his eyes.

"You know what I mean," he says, "After college you kind of packed up and went away so suddenly. Like…like none of this mattered to you."

"Mark," I say with guilt, "It's not like that…it's not like I didn't miss… _San Francisco_."

"I know New York was the right move for you, "he admits, "But now you're back and you have chance to reconnect with… _San Francisco_. We gotta start somewhere, right? Come and have a drink with me, Dani".

"Alright, let's do it. But you know you're buying, right?"

Our walk is short and somewhat quiet. That's one of the many good things about Mark. Not every moment needs to be full of conversation. Silence is comfortable with him. Besides, his little side glances and smiles say more than his words. We get to The Double Tap – a low brick building with an old wooden sign swinging from a post over the door. Mark holds the door open for me and I brush past him; probably too close to him. Close enough to feel his breath on the back of his neck as I pass.

It gives me goosebumps.

Mark doesn't even look around. He walks with directly towards a booth off to the side of the bar. His friends sit there talking until we approach.

"Hey guys," he greets them, "this is Dani, my friend from Uni. Dani, this is- "

"OH MY GOD! Dani! It's so good to finally meet you!"

A beautiful, tall blond hops out of her seat and wraps me in a big hug. I hug her back, smiling quizzically over her shoulder at Mark.

"-is Brooke," he finishes in amusement, "As you can see, she's the living, breathing Miss Congeniality. Or just Midwestern. Jury's still out on that one."

"Hi Brooke, "I say when she finally lets me go.

Brooke slides back into the booth and no sooner the man across from her slides out of it. He looks me over and over and I can't tell if it's because he's being flirtatious or because he's drunk.

"So this is Dani!" he remarks, "bout time we got to meet you!"

He holds out his hand. When I take it he brings mine to his lips and kisses my knuckles. Charming. I smile at him. Mark looks weary beside me.

"This is Cole," he says, "my roommate."

"His _Broski_ in crime, "Cole corrects him. Mark groans and rolls his eyes.

"Nice to meet you Cole," I reply.

"Oh no, no, no, Dani…the pleasure is all mine. You are every bit as beautiful as Mark told me-"

"THANKS COLE, "Mark cuts him off. His cheeks are bright red and he looks like he wants to sink into the ground.

Cole slaps Mark on the back and nods. "Anytime I can help, buddy."

Cole slides back into the booth and Mark sits beside him. Brooke pulls me in next to her. She looks over at the bartender.

"Horatio," she calls out, "Mark and Dani need drinks!"

From behind the bar Horatio looks in Brooke's direction.

"You got it," he says.

Once our drink orders are in Brooke pulls me into another hug. She starts talking a mile a minute.

"You really are so beautiful!" she gushes, "and you look _stunning_ in that dress! Where did you find it? Could I borrow it sometime?"

"Brooke!"

The girl sitting beside her says her name the way a parent does when their child is up to no good. Brooke turns to her looking a little embarrassed.

"We talked about this Brooke," she admonishes, "about personal space and about not jumping all over people when you first meet them…remember? Sorry Dani. Brooke's a personal trainer, therefore prone to excessive peppiness. I haven't found her off switch yet."

"This is my roommate Sereena," Brooke says in a much calmer tone, "She's an angry little munchkin to most of the world, but to me she's a sweetheart!"

"I…am…not…sweet…" Sereena retorts through gritted teeth, "nor am I a munchkin. That's just another infantilizing label imposed on women by men!"

"Suuuure Sereena. You're never this fierce on hot cocoa night," Brooke says with a grin.

"Leave my cocoa out of this! It has nothing to do with the Revolution!" Sereena hisses.

Brooke beams in her roommate's direction.

"You see?! Living with her is the best!" she exclaims.

Sereena frowns and adds, "Yeah, when the landlord's not sucking us dry with rent increases. You're going to have to find a new roomie soon."

Suddenly Brooke gasps and I jump six feet in the air. Mark smirks at me. I always used to scare easily and he always laughed at me. Jerk.

"I just had an epiphany!" Brooke declares, "Dani, if you're apartment hunting, why not move in with me?!"

"BROOKE!" Sereena chastises, "you can't ask a stranger to move in with you!"

"She's not a stranger, she's Mark's friend which means she's our friend, "Brooke reasons.

I look graciously at Brooke. While I'm tempted by the offer I need to see the depth to which the perkiness goes before I make that kind of decision. I thank her for the offer and tell her I will consider it. She seems pleased and drops the matter. Finally, Horatio makes his way to our table with two drinks in hand. He squeezes into the booth beside Mark and slides us our drinks.

"Here we go, last drinks of my shift," he says, "Pilsner for Mark and The Bayshore Welcome for Dani."

"Thank you, "I say to him.

When I try to take a sip, I find a pair of eyes watching me intently. Horatio. Staring in an almost scrutinizing way.

"Uhh…something wrong?" I ask wearily.

"Just…just make sure you _savor_ the drink," he instructs me, "appreciate the layers of flavor and how they all interact with one another."

"Oh God," Mark brings a hand to his forehead, "here we go."

"This drink is a Double Tap specialty. One-part coconut, One part cranberry juice, muddled with organic raspberries and then spritzed with a homemade elderflower tincture. You must savor it; breathe in the drink before tasting it. After all, digestion begins with your sense of smell!"

I stare at Horatio unblinking, for several seconds, before following his directions. When I finally take my first sip I can appreciate what he said to me. I compliment him on his creation and he sits up a little straighter, proud of his work.

"You know, we have a newbie amongst us," Cole says when there's a lull in conversation, "a very tantalizing, luscious newb-"

"COLE."

"Jokes, Mark. Just jokes," Cole chuckles, "seems like a good time to introduce her to Red Herring."

Everyone around me perks up eagerly. I remain dumbstruck.

"Red Herring?" I repeat, "never heard of it."

"Of course not, we made it up a few years ago," Mark explains, "The rules are sort of complex but… you'll get to know my friends pretty well in the process."

Brooke leans over close to my ear. In a quiet voice she shares, "The game can get a little…scandalous. Kissing, streaking…"

"That's how we got our motto!" Cole announces, "'What happens in Red Herring, stays in Red Herring'".

I look around the table at all the hopeful faces. I end on Mark's and stare entirely too long at that pouty frown. I find hard to decline.

"I'm in guys!"

"Excellent!" Cole says with a wicked laugh.

We relocate to the bar where I'm sandwiched between Cole and Sereena. Mark sits on the other side of Cole and stares over his shoulder at me.

"So tell me the rules," I start.

I'm met with Horatio's hand in the air to stop me. He slides a beer slides down the counter in my direction.

"First things first," he says.

"Shotgun that sucker and we'll tell you what you need to know," Mark assures me.

I grab my keys and puncture the can. As I bring it to my mouth I pop the tab and guzzle it. Cole looks at me in wonder when I finish and crush the can. They explain the rules of the game and we start to play. I see as we get further in that it gets increasingly complicated. When Cole is named Bottle Master he looks at us mischievously.

"Buckle up Buttercups," he warns, "I choose 'Never Have I Ever' as our game!"

Everyone around me groans. I take this as a bad sign.

"Hush… here we go. Never have I ever… _fucked in public_!"

We look around at each other. Horatio is the first to take a drink, followed shortly after by Brooke. Then, when I see no one else move I take a swig of mine. Cole, Sereena, and Mark don't touch theirs. Cole looks over at Mark with a raised eyebrow.

"Really, my dude?" he says.

"Nope. I prefer privacy," he responds firmly.

I lean over to look past Cole at him.

"Oh come on!" I tease, "where's your sense of adventure?!"

"He left it on campus after you l-"

"SHUT UP COLE!" Mark warns, "My sense of adventure is in the bedroom where I like it. What about you, Dani?"

"Do I give off an exhibitionist vibe or something?" I joke.

"You're just simply too delicious to be completely innocent, "Cole observes.

"Well you know that phrase 'Lady in the streets, freak in sheets'?" I explain, "yeah, not always with me. I love sex and if I happen to be in public when I want it…so be it."

Mark choke-s on air, from what I can tell. He coughs and pounds on his chest. Cole snickers.

"Any particular favorite places?" he asks me.

"Hmmm… best leave that a mystery," I say with a sly smile.

Mark recovers at last. He clears his throat.

"So…really? Public Sex?!" he ponders, "I'm…surprised."

"You know…you don't know _everything_ about me," I point out, "I've changed a lot while I was away."

"So I'm learning," Mark says with a grin.

No one else sees it but me. It hits me in the gut and makes me tingle somewhere it should not.

"Well I like a woman who isn't afraid to speak her mind," Sereena says, "Most people are so full of bull-"

"Oooh Oooh! You said Bull! I call Toro!" Brooke shouts.

At the sound of the word everyone around me makes horns on their heads with their fingers. Everyone except me and Mark. I beat him to it and he swears under this breath.

"Awww Mark gets trampled now!" Cole declares.

Mark crosses his arms over his chest and pouts.

"One, cattle run in herds, "he argues, "Two, why would the last one be trampled? He's behind the crowd."

"Oh take the drink you big baby," I tease him. He looks at me and shakes his head.

"You're enjoying this too much, Dani."

We go several more rounds and the alcohol is hitting us heavy. I become well versed in the intricate rules until...

"WOOHOO!" I cheer, "I finished the Emperor's Cup! That means I'm the Red Herring!"

When I hold up the cup everyone at the table cheers. Horatio bows to me and then pulls a deck of cards from his pocket. He shuffles them and then fans them out before me.

"Per the ancient rules, The Red Herring must draw from the Happy Ending Deck," He announces regally.

I raise my eyebrow at the name and wonder if they mean the fairy tale or massage table version of happy ending. I guess I am about to find out. I pick one out of the deck and hold it up for everyone to see. Mark becomes visibly uncomfortable.

"A Jack of Hearts. What does it mean?" I ask.

"OOOOOHHHH… how very, very interesting," Cole slurs as he speaks, "Markus…what does the Jack of Hearts mean?"

Mark glares at Cole; I can only assume for the nickname. Then he blushes profusely. He looks up at me and mumbles "It uh… means The Red Herring has to kiss the player of their choice."

"Seriously?" I ask around the table.

"Oh yes," Sereena confirms, "clearly devised by a pathetic male… but seeing as a woman won the game I find it empowering that-"

"Sereena you're spoiling the moment!" Brooke shouts and then turns to me, "Who will it be Dani? Who are you going to kiss?"

It's not really a crap shoot. My new friends are great, but… there's only one person I have in mind.

"Mark."

"Well, rules are rules," he jokes.

But his face does not mirror jest. He's flushed red. And he's nervous. He wipes his palms on his pants and swivels on his stool as I approach him. I'm nervous too, but I try not to let it show. I wrap my arms around his neck and look into his eyes. Mark stares right back at me. His arms slowly wrap around my waist and pull me closer. All sounds – all activities – around us cease to exist. It's just Mark and I… and The Jack of Hearts Kiss. I lean closer, ever closer to those perfect grinning lips until they meet mine. They are sweet, from his last drink, and they move against mine in a way that makes me shiver. The kiss should be over quick. Instead Mark holds me tighter. His lips move a little rougher. They take command over mine and I feel like I can't breathe. Before I know it I've got one hand knotted in the back of his hair and one hand pulling on his collar; his hands are on my hips and slowly moving lower.

Oh shit.

The two of us break apart and look around like deer caught in headlights. All around are open mouths and wide eyes. Except Cole; who is smiling like he is responsible for this luck of the draw. I can't catch my breath but I do my best to speak in an even tone.

"How's that?" I ask Mark.

"I uh…. uh…um…what?" is the only intelligible thing that comes out of his mouth.

"Mark, DUDE," Cole shouts through his laughter, "your pants are looking a little tighter in the crotch all of a sudden. Got wood?"

Mark looks down at his lap and I won't lie: so did I. Before I see anything, he slouches over and puts his arms across his lap. This make Cole laugh harder.

"Don't sweat it, Broski," He badgers Mark, "If I just kissed that sex goddess the way you did I'd have wood too-"

"COLE SHUT THE HELL UP!"

This is my cue to head back to my own stool. Mark gulps down the last of his beer and takes deep even breaths. That is, until his phone vibrates. He looks down and all the color drains from his face. Cole looks over his shoulder at the screen and groans.

"I was wondering when the Wicked Bitch of the West would text," he mutters, "It's been almost a whole hour since you messaged her, after all."

"I really wish you'd stop calling my GIRLFRIEND that. At least, to her face," Mark retorts.

Now the color drains from my face. Girlfriend? What girlfriend? Until now there's been no mention from her, including from Mark. He certainly didn't think to mention a girlfriend when the Jack of Hearts came up. I feel of mixture of annoyance and…something else I can't put my finger on. Mark avoids my gaze as he looks down once more and then hops off the stool. Guess the text killed that boner.

"She's uh…she's outside parking the car. I'm gonna go outside and meet her," he says feebly.

He heads to the door like a scared pup; I can almost see his tail tucked between his legs. His friends clearly know. I look at each in turn and then say "When exactly were any of you going to mention that Mark has a girlfriend? Would've been good to know before I chose to kiss him!"

"Wait…Mark didn't tell you about her?" Brooke stares at me in shock.

"In our defense though, we never talk about her because we hate her," Sereena admits.

"SEREENA!" Brooke smacks Sereena's hand in reproach. Sereena just shrugs and looks around.

"Guys, am I wrong?" She asks Cole and Horatio.

"She brings out the worst in Mark," Cole agrees, "And she makes the strangest noises when they're-"

I hold up a hand "I don't wanna know that Cole, "I warn him, "Well… she can't be as bad as that _awful_ girl he dated in college. Her name was Amy. Man, Mark stored his balls in her pocket when they were together."

"AHEM"

I hear someone behind me clear their throat loud. I also notice Brooke, Sereena, Horatio, and Cole staring open-mouthed. So I turn around…

Jesus…

The familiar ginger locks, pale skin, pinched looking face, and flashing green eyes stare down condescendingly at me. She is NOT happy to see me. Mark stands behind her, fidgeting. Sweat beads at his brow.

"Dani…uh…you remember Amy? We uh…dated in college?"

I swallow hard and fail at an attempt to smile. My heart crashes somewhere around my feet and I can only squeeze out two monotone words.

"Hi, Amy".


	3. Chapter 3: Three San Francisco Spots

Chapter 3

3 San Francisco Spots to Visit Before You Die

I stare up at her in a mixture of horror and disgust. Amy. Her vibrant red hair matches the color staining her cheeks. Her eyes flash; body is coiled like a snake ready to strike.

"Dani…uh…you remember Amy?" Mark says weakly.

"Oh, she remembers me," Amy spits, "because I'm just that awful."

I think fast, not wanting to put Mark in an even more awkward position.

"Amy, no!" I declare, "I said lawf-"

"Oh, Dani, I don't actually care what you said," she interrupts with a sneer, " because no matter _how_ you feel about me, I still got what you want."

My jaw clenches; the muscles ache from clamping down. I spare a side-glance at Mark, who is looking at the ground like he wants to fall through it. He puts a hand on Amy's shoulder while avoiding my stare.

"Let's just…grab a drink, huh, Ames?"

Amy looks back at Mark like he's an afterthought and I feel a spark of anger. Mark always treated Amy like gold in college, yet she always treated him like a pet. A neglected, abused one at that. With one last glare she takes a seat next to Mark. She turns to Horatio with a big, condescending smile.

"I'll take a Manhattan, please," she tells him.

"Actually, " Brooke speaks carefully, "Horatio's shift is over".

Horatio frowns, but puts his hand out in a sweeping gesture towards the bar.

"It's fine," he assures Brooke, "Mixology is my craft, and I'm happy to share it with a friend…like person".

Behind the bar Horatio is a master. He grabs a bottle of vermouth and a bottle of blended whiskey, but before he can pour one, single drop, Amy interrupts him.

"Horatio," she says in know-it-all tone, " a _real_ Manhattan would use rye whiskey. It's not as cool as you hipsters like it, but you can't go wrong with a classic, right?"

"Classic is classic," Horatio agrees, "but I found this great little spirit at a local distillery-"

Amy's nostrils flare. She stands up and steps behind the bar. Horatio stares at her as if she slapped him.

"If you're not going to make _my_ drink _my_ way, I'll just do it myself," she replies, "You do know I used to be a bartender, right?"

"Yes Amy, we know," Cole rolls his eyes, "but you're in Horatio's zen space."

"He'll get over it," she snaps as she grabs rye whiskey off the shelf.

I frown and stand up at the counter.

"Amy."

She looks at me as if I'm dirt beneath her feet. I take a deep breath and say what I need to.

"You're out of line. Horatio knows his job. For you to sit there and undermine him-"

"Dani, Dani, Dani," she says with a sigh, " I see you _still_ haven't learned to mind your own damn business."

Mark lets out a small, suffering noise resembling an injured animal and puts a hand to his head. Out of pure shock I say nothing, but I look around. Everyone looks incredibly uncomfortable, but no one says anything. Amy continues rummaging through the bottles behind the counter. After mixing her drink to her liking she returns to the proper side of the bar. With an unceremonious sigh she plops down in Mark's lap. He looks at her in surprise.

"Oh. Okay," he quips, "so I guess this is happening."

After a long sip, Amy squints in Sereena's direction. Sereena glares back at her.

"So….Ree," She says smartly.

"Don't call me that," Sereena retorts. I can see the ire etched on the lines of her face.

"Relax, it's cute!" Amy waves dismissively, "Ever figure out what you want to do with your college education?"

"Amy," Sereena says it slowly, dangerously, "I'm a grad student. Not an undeclared freshman. Getting my Master's degree _is_ what I want to do."

"Well, there's time yet. I'm sure you'll accomplish… _something,_ "Amy quips, "Oh and…did you ever call Carol?"

It wouldn't take a genius to see the mounting anger on Sereena's face. She looks ready to explode, and honestly, I want to see it.

"As much as I appreciate you nosing into my private life, she's not my type," Sereena retorts.

"Bull-shit," Amy exclaims, "you both like… well, you know…the _same_ things…"

"You mean we both like women?" Sereena counters.

Sereena stands up, hands clenching into fists. As soon as Brooke sees this she places herself between them.

"Sereena, I'm sure Amy was trying to be helpful in her own, misguided away," Brooke reasons.

"Awww…Ree you're so lucky you have someone like Brooke," Amy coos, " she's so motherly".

The look on Brooke's face goes from weary to annoyed. She puts a hand on her hip and squints her eyes.

" _Motherly?!"_

That's pushing the limit. Now I stand up and put a hand on Brooke's shoulder. She keeps her steely eyed gaze on Amy.

"That's too far, Amy," I say firmly, "You might as well wrap her in a shawl and call her 'Granny'".

Mark, actually sweating, tries to extricate himself from Amy's embrace, but she presses closer to him. He looks at her, clearly upset, and talks quietly.

"Ames, maybe we should…excuse ourselves? Call it a night?" he suggests.

"But Marrrrrrky…"

Her whiny, pouty voice hits my ear like nails on a chalkboard. It makes me twitch and makes my hair stand on edge. I can continue to deny it and let the annoyance build, but it's plain and simple.

I hate Amy. HATE.

"Amy," Mark mumbles, "come on, we talked about this. Let's not do this here in front of my friends."

Amy looks at him in outrage.

"NO, LET'S," she raises her voice, " after all, all of our fights are about you choosing your damn outcast friends over me! And now that _she's_ back…it's going to be worse!"

Under Amy's withering glance I don't waver. I stand there, refusing to blink; refusing to back down. But inside, I feel for Mark. So out of this sympathy I open my mouth.

"You think Mark is choosing me over you? Well, guess what Amy? It's not just me – it's all of us. Have you ever asked yourself why he spends so much time with us _without_ you? Maybe it's because you're getting on everyone's last nerves?"

A tangible tension fills the room. Only Cole has the etchings of amusement all over his face. Not Amy. I can tell she's irate. Her face is flush, her eyes flash, and she takes a menacing step towards me. She leans close and looks me dead in the eye.

" _WHAT?"_

"Dani, don't-" Mark starts.

"No. She has a right to know the truth," I say, "it's clear that everyone tolerates her for your sake. But we are not the problem."

Cole swivels on his stool, rubbing his hands together in pure glee.

"Oh my God, why doesn't the bar offer popcorn as a snack?!" he exclaims.

When she sees I will not back down, Amy grabs her purse in a huff. She crosses her arms and rolls her eyes.

"I will not do this with that, that…" she screws her face up, " _bitch_ here. Not for her viewing pleasure."

Behind me Sereena makes a noise of outrage. I put my arm out to stop her from charging past me. Mark looks up at Amy in a mixture of panic and sadness.

"Amy," he starts.

"DON'T, Mark."

Without another word she turns on her heel and walks out of the bar. Mark stares after her like a lost puppy. I hate it. He should never have to feel that way with anyone. Cole looks up at all of us, and then back at Amy's quickly disappearing body.

"BYE FELICIA!" he says with a raise of his glass. I elbow him and shake my head.

"Mark, I'm sorry," I apologize, "I just couldn't stand by-"

"It's fine," he interrupts, "It's just…this is bringing back bad memories of college. I need to go and clear my head. I'll catch up to you guys another time, yeah?"

Before any of us can say anything to him he slaps a twenty down on the bar and leaves. I look around in confusion.

"What… _was that?!_ " I ask.

"Another rerun of the 'Mark and Amy Show', " Horatio explains, "only this week it had a guest star – you".

"Shouldn't we go after Mark?" I inquire with a frown.

"Normally, I'd let him blow off steam," Cole considers, " but tonight is different. Tonight I'm afraid he's entering Pattern 3."

All around me I see a wave of nodding heads. Pattern Three? I look questioningly at Cole and he lets out a sigh.

"Mark a creature of habit," he begins, " As his roommate I've picked up on all of his patterns- there are precisely nine of them. Patter three is when Mark goes off on long bouts of introspection and soul – searching."

"Oh…my…god, " I mumble.

Cole was absolutely right. I hadn't thought of it in his terms, but his observation was scarily accurate.

"It's a vicious cycle," Brooke murmurs, "and we need to help him break it. We need to find Mark."

"Where?" I ask them, ready to help my friend.

"Hard to say," Sereena ruminates, "He's roaming the city, for sure. Last time we found him visiting the sea lions at Pier 30. "

"Seven days in a row, " Horatio adds.

I grab my purse and hoist it over my shoulder. As I head for the door, I call back over my shoulder.

"Well, it's a big city. Let's get moving."

One thing is for certain. Anyone who truly knows Mark knows that, while he is a creature of habit, he is complex. Though he is in Pattern Three, no one can be certain of where the pattern will play out. We each speculate, and we each share our thoughts.

Our quest to find Mark begins with Cole. He leads us to the 404 lounge; one of Mark and Amy's favorite date spots. Instead of searching for him though, Cole uses it as an opportunity to hit on women. And men. After a slap to the back of the head, and admittance of defeat, we decide to explore Horatio's thoughts.

Horatio leads us to a quaint tacqueria in the heart of San Francisco. He sings the praises of El Grullense Tacqueria and treats everyone to tacos. When I ask him how this relates to Mark in any way he simply replies, "How can we search with our bodies and souls unnourished?"

None of us can argue with that. We place an order and as we eat Horation strikes up a conversation with me.

"Dani," he says quietly, "Why is Amy so hostile towards you?"

I frown and put down my taco.

"She wasn't always," I confess, "I actually met her before I knew Mark. We lived in adjoined dorm rooms and she was fine then. In fact, we used to go shopping together and take weekend trips. But all of a sudden I was best friends with her boyfriend and I guess she's been jealous eve since."

"Could it be that the feeling is mutual?" he questions.

I chew thoughtfully before answering.

"Were you asking if the hostility is mutual? Or the jealousy?"

"Both are good questions to ask," he murmurs with a wise nod.

I flounder through a defense and finally give up. I can't say Horatio is wrong. Somewhere, deep down, I always felt jealous of Amy. I know that was the start of the virulence. However, it continued to grow as Amy's treatment of Mark deteriorated.

When we finish eating we turn to Brooke and Sereena's suggestion. Brooke tells us that Mark has a key to their apartment – that he crashes there when Cole has company. We head there on foot and Sereena lets us in. No Mark to be found. As I insist we keep moving, Brooke stops me. She suggests we search the spacious bedrooms, the walk in closets, then roomy bathrooms…and it becomes apparent that this stop is not about Mark. This is about convincing me to move in. While I am impressed by what I see I scold them for wasting time. With the promise of revisiting the subject we head back down to the street. Frustration is visible on all of our faces, and I know mine shows heavy lines of concern.

"I don't get it," Brooke shakes her head, "where could he be?"

"At this point, anywhere," Sereena mutters, "there are plenty of places to get lost in this city."

"Yeah, but I refuse to believe tonight he'd choose a random place…Wait."

It dawns on me as I say the words out loud. The creature of habit. In a familiar stressful situation. There's only one place he would go. A small smile curls my lips.

"Twin peaks," I declare, "I know he'll be there. Follow me".

The others are winded in their attempt to keep. When we get there they follow me to the top of the hill and start looking around. My eyes sweep the benches going up the walkway. When I see him, sitting alone, a wave of relief washes over me.

"He's right there," I say with a sigh.

"How'd you know he'd be here?" Brooke asks in wonder.

"Back in college this is where he would come to write in his poetry journal," I tell them.

"WAIT," Cole practically shouts, "Mark wrote poetry?"

I ignore Cole and look at each of them in turn.

"Do you mind if I talk to Mark alone for a bit?"

"Be our guest," Horatio says with a gesture towards the bench.

As I walk toward him he doesn't even look up. I know he senses me there. His posture loosens up a little as I sit beside him. Mark takes a swig of his flask and then wordlessly offers it to me. I take it from him and sip on the whiskey. Cringing, I hand it back.

"I can see why you always loved this spot. It's so beautiful," I say.

Mark still doesn't respond.

"Mark," I start softly, "I'm so sorry about earlier. I didn't want to upset Amy, but I couldn't sit by and watch all of that. In the end it's sort of my fault."

"No," Mark finally speaks, " it's not your fault. These issues with Amy have come up before, even when you were in New York City. It'll be fine once I apologize."

"Is that really what you want to do?" I ask him.

"What do you mean?"

"Well…" I take a deep breath, "maybe she needs space. Friends are part of the relationship package. You guys have been together for years, and she _still_ doesn't get along with your closest friends. Doesn't that say something?"

"Dani, I'm not blameless in all this," Mark tells me with a frown.

"Sure, but you're always the one who ends up apologizing," I counter, "Shouldn't _she_ say she's sorry every once in a while?"

"Maybe…"

I look at Mark and find him looking at me. He gives me his rueful smile.

"Dani, you don't have to stay," Mark murmurs, "I know I'm not the most fun to be around when I'm in a funk."

"You mean _Pattern Three?_ " I tease.

"Where did you hear about….Dammit, Cole!"

Mark crosses his arms and pouts for a moment. Even pouting he looks perfect.

"We've all got our habits, Mark," I reason, "and we all have different sides to us."

"Yeah but," his voice turns sheepish, " I don't want _you_ to see this side of me."

"Are you serious right now?" I exclaim, "I've already seen every side of you! Don't you remember that you were completely naked when I first met you?"

Beside me on the bench he starts to blush. A silence falls between us, leaving time for me to reminisce. I met Mark at the start of college, in the most unusual of circumstances…

Freshman year. My first class. I was in a lecture hall; nervous about what lay ahead of me. I sat back in my seat and took a deep breath; looking around as people wandered in through the door. While people file in to the rows I lean my head back and close my eyes.

BANG

Suddenly the lecture hall doors at the other end of the room burst open, causing me to jump. Then, a scene unfolded that I can hardly grasp. Dozens of guys rush in.

Naked.

And that's when I saw him. Tall, muscular, with a mess of coppery brown hair. Handsome features, a great smile; something intangible that made him stand out. The guys ran down the aisle, amidst laughter and cheers from the students in the hall. After a triumphant lap through the room, they jogged out through the exit…except for him. He stopped right by my row; looked down at me and smiled. I found it very hard to concentrate in that moment.

"Wait," he said, "Is this Professor Vazquez's lecture on American Lit?"

'Uhhh, yeah," I cleared my throat, "it is."

"Awesome."

The guy slipped into the row behind me and took a seat. Several girls around us giggled uncontrollably.

"Isn't part of streaking, you know…running away?" I asked him.

"Yeah, sure, normally," he agrees, "but I really can't afford to fail this class. I've gotta at least stick around and sign the attendance sheet."

"Sign the attendance sheet with what?!" I said in alarm. A plethora of naughty thoughts crossed my mind. Then again, who wouldn't think that way with such a perfect naked body in front of them?

"I don't suppose I could borrow a pen?" he asked with a sly smile. Yep. Attractive. _Very_ attractive. I searched my bag and handed one over. My mind had run over the millions of reasons why he'd be naked. Was this a prank? A rush activity? A team hazing? Then I made the mistake of looking at those abs again and my mouth opens before I can think.

"I have to ask: do you work out?"

Way to make myself obvious. Still, he looks down and back at me, ready to answer.

"Yeah, I do. Just in case someone dares me to go streaking through a lecture hall," he jokes with a wink, "and thanks for noticing."

"Trust me, " I replied, "it's hard no to."

As I blush over my inability to filter what I say, he extends his hand to me. I take it.

"I'm Mark," he says with a grin.

"Dani," I tell him.

He held on to my hand long after he stopped shaking it. His thumb moved over mine and made something in my stomach clench.

"What in the world…OUT! GET OUT!"

A stuffy looking professor wearing an ascot and brandishing his umbrella spotted Mark as soon as he walked in to the hall. Mark's eyes went wide and he looked at me in mild alarm.

"I think that's my cue," he whispered, "Guess I may fail this class after all."

"Not so fast," I stopped him, "I can always send you my notes."

"Really?" he asked in disbelief.

"Sure thing. Here's my number."

Now, normally I'd tear out a sheet of paper and write it down or pen it on the back of his hand. This was different. A lovely naked body right in front of me. So I stood up and pulled the cap from my pen. Then I brought the pen to his chest and slowly wrote the numbers. Mark let out an audible gasp as the tip moved slowly against his skin. As I finished the last digit I ran my finger across the dry ink and watched him bite his lip. I reluctantly pulled my hand away.

"You know," Mark cleared his throat, "you could've written it on my hand, right? It'll be damn near impossible to read this now."

"Oh I know," I agreed, "This was 100% for me…but don't tell me you didn't like it just a little".

"AHEM!"

Before he could answer we spotted Professor Vazquez heading up a parallel set of steps – eyes blazing while he stared us down. Mark looked at me as he headed out of his row.

"I'll call you later, Dani," is all I hear as he jogs down the steps and out of the room. My gaze follows him; I continue to glance at the door with a small smile throughout class.

I come out of my daydream and find Mark smiling at me.

"Up in your head again?" he teases.

"Lost in a good memory," I answer, " I knew I could snap you out of Pattern Three."

"I can't believe Cole told you about the stupid patterns. I'm gonna kill him!

From across the walkway we hear Cole huff.

"I heard that!" he exclaims, "I'm so flattered that you gossip about me when I'm not around."

Slowly, the group gathers around the bench. Sereena snatches the flask out of Mark's hand and takes a swig.

"I was just telling Dani about the many ways I am plotting your demise," Mark grumbles.

"They say to turn the other cheek is the unforeseen response, " Horatio muses, "that's a vengeance he'd never see coming."

"Umm….hello people," Cole looks at us with raised eyebrows, "I'm right here."

"Personally, I've found that ignoring him can be really effective," Sereena shares.

To prove her point she reaches over Cole without so much as blinking and hands Brooke the flask.

"Oh, so funny you guys," Cole sarcastically mutters.

"Hmmm did you guys hear something? Like a whisper dancing on the wind?" Horatio asks.

"Nope! I don't hear a thing!" Brooke answers.

"I think you're imagining things, Horatio," I jump in on the fun.

"Okay, seriously?!" Cole declares, "this isn't funny!"

"I beg to differ," Mark responds.

Everyone slowly turns and looks at him. Cole's mouth falls open.

"Wait a second…Mark, smiling?" Coles says in disbelief, " He's back to Pattern One! I repeat, he's back to Pattern One! That has to be the fastest recovery time ever!"

"Shut up, Cole," Mark says, but he's smiling. I can't help, but smile too. This is the Mark that I remember; the Mark I've missed the past few years.

When he looks at me, I feel warmer, more content. I scoot over to make room for Brooke and feel Mark's arm go around my shoulders. I look out at the lights; taking in the events of the evening. What started as a subpar date has evolved into a reunion and the introduction of new acqaintances. I feel grateful and more importantly, at home again. It's a feeling I lacked in New York.

"I have an idea," I share, "we need to document this occasion: The rare moment we broke Mark free of his patterns."

Mark elbows me.

"How?" Brooke asks.

"A selfie!" I exclaim matter-of-factly.

At mention of the word everyone moves together. I pull out my phone, but pause when Mark presses particularly close to my side. I clear my throat and hold my cell out as far as I can.

"Alright, smile!" I exclaim. I count backwards out loud; three, two, one…

The flash goes off and soon after I look at the picture. All happy smiles. The record of what will hopefully be great friendships.

Suddenly, from his pocket, Mark's phone buzzes. He pulls it out and checks the message. Shock washes over his face.

"Oh my God," he murmurs.

"Let me guess," Cole groans, " Is it the succubus?

Sereena slaps the back of Cole's head, but Mark doesn't respond. He reads the message intently, and shakes his head in confusion.

"What is it?" I ask, though I do not want to know.

"It's Amy," he breathes, "she…she apologized for everything. Literally everything. Including being rude to all of you. She…wants to talk."

My heart sinks. I don't need to say anything because I know his mind is made up. He's going to talk to her. And even though he should not he will end up apologizing and convincing her that it's his fault despite her message. I sigh.

"I suppose you're leaving then?" Horatio asks, disillusioned.

"Guys, I'm sorry," Mark says, standing, "I owe her this much. We need to figure this out."

"Actually, you don't" Sereena fumes, "but you'll let her get away with this anyway. I guess we'll see you later."

Mark avoids eye contact with me. He stares at the ground at my feet and mumbles one last thing to me.

"I'll call you tomorrow, okay?" he says. I just nod, and watch his feet carry him away. I know he's gone when Sereena sits in the spot now vacant because of Mark. From behind me Horatio puts a hand on my shoulder. Beside me, Brooke grabs my hands and pats it.

"You going to be alright?" Cole asks. This time, there's no air of humor in his voice. He frowns, concerned.

"Yeah," I say quietly, "I just wish he realized he deserves better."

"We all wish that," Sereena adds, "but … I have a feeling with you here… it might happen sooner than later."

"We all hope that, anyway, "Horatio agrees, " the cub must realize he is ready to be a lion."

"Horatio, " Cole shakes his head, "not now, man."

Everyone falls quiet for a bit. We look at the city laid out before us. I think of the opportunities ahead – both professionally and personally. For the moment I push thoughts of Mark and Amy from my mind. I look at each person around me in turn. Cole – with his sense of humor. Brooke – with her compassion and kindness. Sereena – determination and purpose. Horatio – wisdom and peace. They are people with qualities that, combined with my own, make a powerful and pleasant atmosphere. They make a complete picture. I do not know them well, but I can already sense a solid friendship in the works.

"I'm very pleased to meet all of you," I finally say.

Cole smiles in a knowing sort of way and nods at me.

"Right back at ya, Dani"


End file.
